


money, power & glory

by benusaku



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rich Bokuto, Shameless Smut, Sugar Daddy, bokuto wants to HELP, heavily inspired by lana del rey's song, like really rich, lil innocent baby reader, lol these tags never fail to make me laugh im sorry, mentions of toxic family, protective and jealous bokuto, relationship is awkward at first, sugar baby reader!!, sugar daddy bokuto, will keep the tags updated!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benusaku/pseuds/benusaku
Summary: bokuto is a simple man, he wants to bring happiness with him wherever he goes. but there you are, crying your heart out. there you are, all alone. you’re the grey in his yellow and bright world, so he can’t help but holds his hand out. he wants to help, he wants to see your face light up with a pretty smile... so, bokuto koutarou is more than ready to give you everything you want. including money, power and glory.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	money, power & glory

**Author's Note:**

> also posted on my tumblr!

Everyone has a rough idea of you as a person. Different versions of you live in different people’s minds. You can't change them, you can't make them see you as the way you are—of course, that is such a natural thing to happen. People like to see others—with the very little knowledge they have about other people, they don’t like to look at them with a deep view. Most people don’t even know this because they know themselves, and they just don’t bother to care about not being seen as the way they are.

But you have a problem with that.

The first reason is probably your mind being troubled by the emptiness you feel, and the second one is the fact that you don’t even know yourself. It sounds unfair because how can other people know you while you don’t even know yourself? You want to ask for their help but you also know that their responses will differ—which will make you more confused than you already are and you will be the only one who gets sad in the end.

You walk back to your home with this kind of thoughts, knowing that something annoying is waiting for you at home. Your parents, it has always been them.

The noises coming from the kitchen can be heard from the outside, you let out a deep sigh as you drag your feet—you know that there’s no way to run away from this mess, you know that you’re stuck with your parents... but oh to be able to get away, oh to be able to start a new life far away from them. It’s nice to think about that, it always helps you to calm down when their screams get louder. A little apartment in the city, dark streets are shining with the signs, people are all over the streets, everyone’s minding their own business, no one knows you and you know no one... it’s a nice dream to have, but it hurts to know that it’ll stay as a dream for who knows how long. It makes you sick to your core knowing that you need them, you need their money for your education because they don’t want you to get a job—and their reason is that you’re too naïve to protect yourself, but that is all you get from them as an excuse.

Money.  
You hate the fact that money is the only thing which connects you with your parents, you feel like you have no other connection to them. 

Your head starts to ache already even though you’re still outside, your trembling hand finds the keys in your backpack. It’s annoying, it’s humiliating, it’s everything you hate. You hate your dad for making you get used to live a life which is dependent on money, you hate your mom for making you stay quiet and bite back your words... you hate them with every fiber of your being, but you can’t tell this to them. You can’t let anyone know about your feelings, or what’s going on behind the closed doors. Because no one will believe you, you’re a great family after all! Your mom drives you to school every day, your dad buys you whatever you want—they try to fill that void in your heart by playing to your favorites. Your parents think that you don’t even understand, but you’re not that dumb. You may seem naïve, and be one truth to be told, but you’re not dumb. You just like to seem as one so that no one will bother you, no one will try to get close to you... all you need is silence and some peace. You’re sure that people will try to get closer to you because of your oh-so-perfect family, but no one will be willing to listen to you truly. It makes you burn with pure hatred, does everyone have to be such a self-seeker? It's not like you’re completely okay with being alone, the real problem is that you just want someone who will be true to you, who will be reliable, who’ll listen to you because they want to do so. Not someone who will be there for a good time, you don’t like letting people go—you want someone to be there for you no matter what, someone who will accept you even when you show them the real you.

Your parents’ voices make you come back to reality and they immediately stop screamin at each other when they see you stepping inside the house. Their faces are red because of yelling way too much but you simply choose to ignore them, you walk past them as you don’t even bother to look at their way. You hear your dad sigh, and feel your mom following you with small steps. 

“What do you want? Continue to yell at each other, I’m already used to it.”

“____, don’t be like that please. You know that your dad and I are going through a rough time.”

You want to yell at her face, you want to ask her that when will this fucking rough time end, will it ever come to an end? But you don’t want to be like that, you don’t want to turn into someone who screams at others mindlessly, who doesn’t care other people’s feelings... you’ll never and ever will be like them. It’s scary to turn into someone like them, and even if it means that you have to play the dumb till the very end of your life—you are determined to do it.

“I know”, you say, your voice comes off as a whisper. Some kind of heaviness takes its places on your shoulders, your eyelids feel heavier for some reason, your eyes and throat burn. All these repressed emotions and unsaid words beg you to let them all out, but you simply bite on your tongue to keep them in place. “I’m tired, tell me when the dinner’s ready.”

“Okay, go take a shower. I’ll prepare it.”

It’s not easy to leave the things behind that you’re already used to—you'd get mad at your parents about not leaving each other but you realized that they are the only ones who are able to tolerate each other. That’s why they are scared of drifting apart, because they know themselves and they know what’s waiting for them once they go on their separate ways... but still you can't wrap your mind around this concept, you can’t know the future accurately, right? Is it really hard or too risky to give yourself another chance? You can make guesses and you can know a thing or two based on your past experiences and your current state; but the future still has the possibility of surprising you in any way. 

You can’t be sure if you’re too excited to live the tomorrows that are waiting for you or if you simply want to get done with them as quickly as possible, all you know is that you don’t have any idea about your future. The life you’re living right now is based on your parents’ expectations, they don’t “expect” you to do well, they know that you do well-- because that’s what you’re told to, and you know that you have to do it. You don’t get “I’m proud of you” or “You’re trying your best, take a break now.” It’s always “____, are you attending to your club activities? How are your grades? You’re studying, right?”, and many more similar to these.

Don’t they see how hard you work, or are you not trying your best?

You don’t say anything in response, only nod your head and step into your room. Your desk is full of books, the floor of your bedroom acts as a home for all your clothes and trash. You don’t even bother to tidy your bed, your aching and exhausted body falls into your messy bed—you close your eyes, let your tensed body to relax for a while during this short period of silence. You don’t want to open your eyes because you know if you do, you’ll start to cry. You don’t want to cry, you don’t want to feel weaker than this. You know that you can’t keep doing this to yourself, you’re only hurting yourself by holding back—but showing people the real you is a heavy burden and a risky thing to attempt. Every time you see your parents it only makes you feel more alone, they’re both strangers at this point. The more you think, the more you get lost. You don’t even know yourself—what do you like to do in your free time, which university you plan to apply, do you really like playing the piano, are you okay with wearing these basic clothes, do you like to be alone or surrounded with people? Not being able to answer these questions causes you to fall into an endless void, because if you don’t even know yourself who will know you? You can’t expect people to read you like an open book, you can’t expect them to let you know your own personality. This is ridiculous, you’re miserable, and you can’t find a way out from this state. It only pulls you deeper to that void, it drains your energy, it makes you wake up in the middle of night because of an unknown fear but you’re used to it... it’s sad and hard to accept, but it’s the truth. 

And you know that you can’t escape the truth.

When your mom calls your name from the kitchen, you’re already dressed in your pajamas. The fabric feels soft against your warm skin, the scent of your shampoo makes you feel like you’re in a big field of flowers. You put down your phone on your messy desk, mentally noting that you have to clean your room because you can’t even find your glasses, and leave your room. Seeing your dad smiling softly at your mom makes your stomach drop... if they are able to smile at each other like that, why are they fighting like they hate each other in the first place? Is it that hard to keep up with this act? If they are able to tolerate each other like that, why aren’t they bothering to act all lovey-dovey with each other all the time? You want to tell him to stop smiling, you want to let him know that it’s disgusting to see him being nice—but once again like you always do, you bite your tongue. You sit down on one of the chairs and start to eat. 

“Ah, wait for us!”, your dad says and laughs, and you try your best to not roll your eyes. 

“I’m in a hurry”, you say. “I need to study.”

“That’s great!”, your mom joins the annoying conversations that you don’t even want to take place in, but you know you have no other choice. “All you need to do is get high grades, do your best and don’t disappoint us.”

You suddenly don’t feel like eating. Disappointing them? They are already disappointing you, so it’s only fair for you to disappoint them a little...right? You gulp and try to eat more, you don’t forget to force a smile. “Yeah, being a class president is actually getting in my way of studying but I’m already doing my best.”

“Well, being a class president is important!”, your dad jumps back in the conversation. “Some universities expect their students to show leadership and take active roles in social activities.”

“This is the hundredth time that I’m hearing this, dad. Okay, I get it. Can I eat in silence now?”

None of them say something in return, and you finally appreciate something that they done. After dinner you help your mom to clean the table, she seems like she wants to ask you something but you choose to not ask it until she brings up because you know that she won’t be able to hold herself back for too long. 

“Are you talking with your teachers about the universities you want to apply?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“I actually... you know... don’t want you to go away.”

“What do you mean by going away? Even the nearest university takes two hours with train.”

“Yeah but you can spend two hours on the road everyday, can’t you? Living in the city is not something you’re used to... and you know.. as your parents, me and your dad are worrying about you.”

It’s like they’re pushing your buttons on purpose, like they’re trying to make you lose control.

“Worrying about what, exactly? Do you plan on keeping me by your side till the very end? It doesn’t work like that, mom. And I expect you to cut me some slack and let me decide for myself.”

“But we are trying to protect you!”

You want to scream, you want to cry and throw a tantrum like a spoiled little kid but you just take a deep breath to calm yourself down.

“Protect me from what? Being here with you two and hearing your arguments harm me more than anything, if you didn’t know.”

“____, we know... and we’re sorry—”

“I’m going to my room, please don’t disturb me. You can probably do the rest by yourself. Good night.”

You don’t give her a chance to say something back, you take quick steps and lock your door after you step in your room. It’s like a fucking joke, the way they’re treating you. Are they toying with you? Trying to test you? Trying to see when you’ll snap back? You rest your back to the closed door as you try to catch your breath, you need to calm down, you need to calm down quickly.

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse. I’ve heard worse.”

Your chest heaves up and down with deep breathes, and your eyes feel like they’re burning—begging you to open them so the tears can freely run down from your cheeks. You don’t feel like you belong to this place, and you know that there’s a place waiting for you to reach—but these invisible cuffs hold you back from reaching that place which is special to you. You call yourself strong every night, because you’re already used to this life... but does being used to something necessarily mean that you’re strong? It feels like a lie when you say it to yourself, but there’s no one to actually mean it while saying that to you. You can only rely on yourself, and relying on yourself for too long starts to become exhausting. At least you know that in your heart, you didn’t do anything wrong, that your parents are the bad ones and you’re not but repeating this too many times makes it seem like a pathetic lie. You rub your burning eyes and sit down on the floor, start to fold your clean clothes and put the dirty ones in the basket that is located in the corner of your room. There you go again, crying silently—it happens almost every night when you’re all alone. Not being surrounded by people might be called being alone, but this is what loneliness feels like. You’re at the bottom of a void, your voice can’t be heard, no one cares enough to reach the bottom just for you. You take a deep breath and wipe the tears away with the back of your hand, your body quickly feels heavy with weariness. When you finally manage to clean up your room, even if it’s just a little bit, you lay down on your bed. your phone vibrates for a while and you suddenly get scared, is someone calling you? Why would someone do something like that? You don’t want to talk to anyone... you take your phone and sigh in relief when you see that it’s just your classmate sending texts one after another.

💬 _____, check your phone.  
💬 come on!!! this is important.  
💬 i'm not joking by the way, it really is

💬 uh i was kind of busy  
💬 did something bad happen?  
💬 is it about the classes?

💬 ahh no, it’s way better actually  
💬 do you know bokuto koutarou?

💬 should i know him?

💬 of course you wouldn’t  
💬 he’s a famous volleyball player and he graduated from OUR school

💬 and?

💬 and? AND? look at him [image attached]

💬 well, he looks good

💬 he’s GODLY

💬 eh, you can say that too   
💬 why are you so excited about this  
💬 are you in love with him or something?

💬 AREN’T YOU IN LOVE WITH HIM

💬 i didn’t even know he existed like a minute ago, how can i fall in love with him

💬_____, you’re really something else, like really  
💬 but anyways,, apparently he’s going to visit our school  
💬 TOMORROW

💬 well good for you  
💬 go ask him out

💬 are you kidding right now? how can i ask him out? even looking at him from far away is enough for me

💬 okay then, you’ll probably spend your lunch break stalking him  
💬 good luck with that

💬 won’t you join me

💬 well of course i won’t  
💬 i have a meeting tomorrow with the teachers and the other class presidents

💬 ah,, you’ll miss the fun 🙁

💬 it’s okay, have fun for me too

💬 will do!!! good night

💬 good night

You put your phone down and pull the sheets over your body, lying to someone isn’t something that you prefer to do—but you don’t want to tag along. Everyone has a normal life; they like someone, they spend their time happily, they find the energy in themselves to actually study... and you don’t want to admit it but you’re jealous. You want that kind of life too, you want to like someone too, you want to study for yourself—not for your parents. Every day is the same for you, it’s a never-ending loop that you know won’t come to an end any time soon. You try your best, you don’t know why but you do—because there’s still hope, even if it’s the tiniest bit, there still is. 

When you suddenly get up from your bed, you furrow your eyebrows—your alarm didn’t even go off. It’s still dark outside, and you’re still too sleepy to actually get out of the bed. You hear the sky rumble, and hear the sound of the rain. It’s a depressing thing for most of the people but you find peace in this kind of weather, you force your eyes to open and quickly run to open your closed curtains. Everything seems gray for a second, and you feel like you belong to this colorless place. In contrast to others’ grumpiness you get ready with a slight smile on your lips, you even prepare yourself breakfast since you’re early. Your mom follows after you quickly when she hears you, and you wait for her to get ready while putting your books in your backpack.

You don’t know why you love the rain so much, but it feels nice to have something shed tears for you because you’re already way too tired to do that anymore. 

As soon as you step into the classroom you realize that everyone is very interested in the mentioned Bokuto guy, they’re whispering to each other, showing the pictures of him to one another... it makes you curious too, but you’re actually exhausted to engage in their conversations. Everyone goes back to their places when the teacher steps in, but they keep whispering to each other during the class. Lunch break comes sooner than you expect and it makes you laugh how everyone is waiting for Bokuto to step inside the school’s garden—it must feel nice to have so many people adore you, right? You can’t be sure if you want the same or you just want sincere people around you, but it doesn’t matter anyways.

Just as you’re about to leave the classroom your teacher stops you.

“____, are you free right now?”

“Yes, did something happen?”

She seems kind of troubled, and her expression makes anxiety bubble up within you. Is it about your parents? Your to be applied universities? Your grades? Did you fail?

“No, I just wanted to talk to you for a second. Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

You follow the teacher, your heart bangs against your chest at a crazy speed. Whatever is waiting for you, you’re scared of it. You don’t want to hear it, you’re not ready. When you and your teacher finally find a quiet place at the end of the corridor, she leans on the wall behind her. You start to fidget with your fingers, your head hung low as you wait for the upcoming thing—you really don’t want to be here right now, you’d prefer to stalk that Bokuto guy with your friend, you’d do everything instead of waiting impatiently for your teacher to talk. 

“Is everything okay at home?”, she asks, and you immediately lift your head up.

“Why are you asking this?”

“Just curious... you know, you can’t focus on classes like you used to. Besides, you still didn’t hand in your list of universities.”

“I’m still thinking and discussing it with my parents, thank you for your concern.”

“____, you can talk to me. You know that, right?”

You want to laugh at her words. Talk? You can talk to her? What can you possibly say? Even if you talk to her, she’ll surely try to contact your parents. You don’t want that, you want everything to stay as they are now. You let out a deep sigh and force a soft smile, your cheeks hurt because of these fake smiles but you don’t have any other choice.

“You’re so nice, thank you”, you mumble, keeping your smile to assure your teacher. “Being class president is tiring me sometimes but I’m really trying my best. I know I can keep up the good work.”

“Well of course you can! I don’t have any doubts about that but I just... wanted to check in. You seem off and tired most of the time, and even though you’re the class president you don’t attend the gatherings that you’ve planned. If it’s about something else rather than being busy with school—I just want to know that, so that I can help you.”

You feel like you’re surrounded by sparkles, your heart feels like a bird in cage, your fingertips tingle with the feeling. It’s an unknown feeling, strange yet very soothing. You want to part your lips and tell her everything, you want to pour your heart out... but she’s just a teacher—what can she possibly do? Can she help you with leaving your home and parents behind? You suck in a deep breath before bowing down slightly, your eyes and throat burn but you just gulp down.

“If I need your help, I’ll definitely come to you. Thank you so much, again. May I leave now?”

“Of course, don’t forget to eat well.”

“You too!”, you wave at your teacher and start to walk away from her, your smile vanishes as soon as you turn your back on her. Eating well? You don’t even feel like eating, probably because of the early breakfast you had but still—whenever you feel sad and miserable like this you just don’t feel like eating at that moment. Your feet move on their own without you even knowing it, and you find yourself at the remote corner of the school garden. The place is filled with bushes and flowers, and there is a tiny space for you to fit in perfectly. Away from everyone, quiet and peaceful—it's all you need. You hold the hem of your skirt to move freely and try to not step on the flowers, when you finally sit down on the ground you lay down on your back. Walls and bushes are enough to hide you, so you don’t need to worry about someone finding you.

You can cry.

You really want to cry.

But tears just... don’t come. Your eyes keep burning, your throat keeps burning too but you can’t even make a sound. You lay there, your hands trapped between your legs to cover your exposed thighs and you just watch the sky. You take deep breaths and feel the warmth of your tears on your cheeks, a small smile appears on your lips—for the first time, it feels nice to let it all out. 

“Ah, this is annoying and humiliating”, you say, even though you’re alone.

“You know, things don’t go your way sometimes.”

Well, you’re not alone.  
You immediately lift your body off of the ground and look at the direction that the voice comes. The owner of the voice is someone familiar; his eyes are shining brightly, his cheeks are slightly pink, his voice feels like there’s honey dripping from it, and his smile is just... too bright. It lights up the grey sky, your colorless world, and it makes you anxious.

“Why are you here?”, you ask and Bokuto Koutarou laughs. You hate him for a moment, you hate the fact that he can laugh sincerely like this. His laugh is pure, filled with joy—unlike yours. Most of the time your smiles and laughs are just forced ones, practiced ones that people can’t tell the difference, people can’t understand that they are just fake.

“Because this is my safe spot. Why are you here?”

“Well, this is my safe spot now.”

“I’m happy to see someone here.. but I also don’t like it.”

“Why is that?”

“I used to come here when I felt sad, down, anxious, lonely... left all my negative emotions here, this is a cursed place.”

You sniffle but can’t help the soft laugh escaping from your lips.

“Are you trying to make me go away?”

“Ah, I thought it would work!”, Bokuto laughs, his hand comes up to his nape. You know he wants to ask you why you’re crying—and you can make an exception since he made you laugh. It was a real one, it made your body tremble slightly—the feeling of a sincere laugh made your body tingle with the unknown feeling.

“Well, this cursed place didn’t make me sad. I was already sad, so..”

“I don’t like it when people cry.”

“You can’t make every crying people laugh, get used to it.”

“But I made you laugh, didn’t I?”

“Thank you for that, if that’s what you want to hear.”

Bokuto doesn’t say anything in return for a moment, you choose to stay silent as well. You pull your legs closer to your chest and rest your cheek on top of your knees. It’s inappropriate and you probably look weird but you can’t take off your eyes of him—Bokuto is really godly, just like your friend said.

“Is it about your friends?”, Bokuto does the same, his big and tall figure seems so small when he hugs his legs and rest his cheek on top of his knees. Your cheeks get red, only a little bit, because he’s staring right back at you. You can see his beautiful face, his sharp and round features, his shining eyes, his pink lips... Bokuto Koutarou is right in front of you, and he’s looking at you like the way you’re looking at him.

He thinks you’re pretty; with your red nose and cheeks, with your plump parted lips, with your teary eyes, your slightly messy hair... Bokuto doesn’t like it when people cry, but even though you’ve been crying you still look ethereal to him. The fact that someone’s going through a rough time, that someone has found his safe spot... Bokuto feels nice, but also sad. He can’t read you open like a book, that’s something that his friend Akaashi is good at, but he can definitely tell that you feel...empty. Your eyes hold no emotion as you look at him, your words mix into the thin air whenever you open your mouth. 

Bokuto doesn’t like it.

He hates it.

“I don’t have any friends”, you say, with a forced smile. Bokuto catches that but chooses to not make a comment on it. “I mean I do have my classmates, but that’s it. They’re just classmates, nothing more than that.”

“You don’t want to have friends?”

“I don’t know.”

Bokuto sighs deeply and he turns his body towards you completely. It feels like warmth radiates from his body, his colorful world collides with yours. It’s a scary feeling, all of these emotions rushig into your exhausted body and making your heart beat faster.

“I’m going to sound rude but I’m really curious about your problem—and I’d like to help if there’s something I can do.”

You take a deep breath and hold it in for a minute, you look at Bokuto—his expression seems troubled, you can clearly see that he’s sad, he feels sad for you. It should feel humiliating but you find yourself crying again, louder than before this time. Your body shakes with your sobs, your loud voice hurts your throat. Nonetheless, it feels nice to be able to cry like this. You feel light as a feather, and his hand running through your hair feels somewhat soothing.

“You can’t help me, Bokuto-san", you whisper, look at him and give him a slight smile. That is a genuine smile, shows how broken you are—broken beyond fixing. Bokuto bites the inside of his cheek, holding himself back to wrap his strong arms around your delicate body. You seem small, fragile and soft—he's afraid that he’ll break you into pieces if he ever tries to hold you. He holds back the urge, his hand moves to your back and draw small circles through your white shirt.

“Just tell me what you need”, he says, the distance between the two of you feels nonexistent when he comes a little bit closer. You want to give in, you want to talk about your family and the life that you hate so much—but as always, all you do is biting on your tongue. He doesn’t step back and you just can’t understand, why is he being nice to you? He doesn’t even know you.. does this mean you seem so miserable that he feels pity for you? It’s bad, that’s bad—you don’t want to show it, you don’t want to hear stereotyped encouragement words. 

“I wish I could just make a wish and become a better person. I need a new life, far away from here. I need a lot of money, and I need to get into a good university. I need to leave all my worries behind my back and start from the very bottom. I need to learn to be true to myself and I need to get to know myself. Bokuto-san, do you still think that you can help me?”

Bokuto doesn’t speak for a minute or two, try to understand the meaning of your heavy words. How foolish of him... he thought you had a low grade, had a fight with your boyfriend, had some problems with your best friend. You’re a soft, small girl—he never thought that there’s a heavy burden on your shoulders.

“I can h-”, he starts but you’re already on your feet, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. He looks at you, the familiar school uniform fits perfectly to your frame. Your legs shake slightly, and your hands tremble—Bokuto wants to hold you, he wants to hold you, hold you close, keep you beside, hold you tight—  
“My friend is in love with you”, you say, and he finally hears a giggle from you. It’s cute, makes his cheeks go red visibly. “Can you sign—”, you take a piece of paper from the inside pocket of your school jacket along with a pink pencil. “this?”

“Of course”, he says, and it’s his turn to force a smile. You’re going to leave with your broken heart and he’s going to leave knowing that. Bokuto doesn’t want this, he can give you the money—he can help you to get into a good university, he can give you whatever you want from him. He can help you, he wants to help you even if he fails in the end but you don’t give him that chance. You hold the paper in your palm and he signs it, and your conversation comes to an end.

“Thank you so much, she’ll be so happy”, Bokuto wants to ask you if you’ll be happy too, but he can guess your answer. He stands up, his hand strokes your hair before you take a step back.

“I didn’t even know you until yesterday”, you admit with a shy smile. “And I thought you’re just some stuck up adult who likes to show off by coming back to his high school... but you’re really, really a nice person. Thank you for listening to me, you helped me by spending time with me. I will always remember this.”

Bokuto wants to say something in return, he wants to make you believe that he can help you—you already made him focus on you... you really don’t know who he is? He should be bothered by it, and he’s a little bit bothered to be honest, but it doesn’t matter when it’s compared to you in general.

You wave at him with a small smile on your lips before turning your back, you start to run to the school building and leave Bokuto behind. Your words repeat themselves in his mind, “I’ll always remember this.”

Will you really, always, remember him?  
Bokuto knows that he doesn’t have to bother, he’s not obligated to do anything for you—but he can’t stop himself as well. He wants to, he wants to do it, he wants to help you and see your genuine smile one more time. He starts to walk to the school building too, makes his ways to the teacher’s room. Some students come up to him to talk to him or take a picture with him, he kindly tells them that he really has to see a teacher and flashes them a bright smile. 

You don’t need to worry, from now on.

Bokuto will give you everything.  
He will give you the money you need, the power you need, and the glory you deserve.


End file.
